Traveling Thoughts: Crew Stadium

USSD is on the road today, blogging to you from scenic Cleveland airport on the way to the deep South for a couple of days that will finally cap off what has been a hectic couple of weeks. Because I'm so dedicated to you loyal readers (and because I have a couple of hours to burn in between flights), here's a post to help get you through your Friday.

I haven't traveled too much to this point in my life, only venturing west of central Pennsylvania on one occasion (to Minneapolis, if your curious). Essentially all of my travel has been up and down the east coast, from Florida to Massachusetts and everywhere in between. So today, I find myself in Ohio for the first time in my life, the closest I've ever been to what I consider the Mecca of US soccer.

As a die-hard, obsessive USMNT fan, it pains me to say that I have yet to take in a game from the black and yellow bleachers of Crew Stadium (though it's not nearly as painful as watching this overweight 50-something sitting across from me awkwardly trying to hit on a girl who looks like she still might be in college). I almost feel embarrassed to say so, as if I have not yet been initiated into the brotherhood of fanatics that invest so much energy and emotion into the national team.

In my defense, it's not as if there's a ton of opportunities to make the trek, with usually just one or two matches a cycle at The House that Lamar Built. And no disrespect to the Spice Boyz of Grenada and other teams of that ilk, but I don't think many people will disagree with me when I say that if you're going to make the pilgrimage, USA-Mexico is the match you want to see.

For three straight cycles now, one of North America's fiercest footballing rivlaries (I won't say it's the fiercest; unlike with a couple of Central American nations, a war hasn't erupted between the US and Mexico as a result of a game between the two) has played out in the first stadium built specifically for an MLS team (Lockhart wasn't originally built for the Fusion, for those of you preparing to call me out in the comments section). It's become one of the few (the only?) traditions in US soccer, to take on El Tri in the friendly confines of Crew Stadium, and each match has been oh so memorable. Whether we're talking about the Cold War back in '01, the sea of red and Gooch staredown of '05 (which, to this day, still keeps Jared Borghetti awake at night), or the Marquez red and Bradley brace of '09, each match has been a fantastic result for the Yanks that has helped them reach the World Cup. We've all heard the chants: Dos a cero. Three words that express just how far we've come in a decade or so in terms of the regional battle for supremacy. That new-found swagger, that confidence against a bitter rival, was born in Crew Stadium. It doesn't have the frills of the Home Depot Center or Wembley, nor does it have the tradition of Azteca; it's just a bare bones collection of metal that reminds many of high school football, not high level international soccer. But it's uniquely American, and it fits our team perfectly: not flashy, but effective. So while Red Bull Arena will likely be the toast of US soccer stadiums for years to come, the trailblazing black and gold arena in central Ohio will continue to keep a special place in the hearts of USMNT fans

I was tantilizingly close to being at last February's qualifier, but unfortunate developments kept me grounded in Philly. The setback was a tough pill to swallow, but by no means did I feel the victory was a bittersweet moment. Like all other Americans, I soaked up another glorious dos a cero, not thinking once about how I could have been one of those red-clad crazies in a state of euphoria in central Ohio (as bizarre as it sounds, I also feel as if me being at the game might have meant that something different would have happened, as if one fan somehow could have a massive impact on the result. Wierd, I know). It didn't create any feelings of disappointment, it just further cemented my determination to be there once 2013 rolls around. Of course, the match could be held elsewhere, but if I were a betting man, I'd put my money on the USSF heading back to stadium that has been the scene of such critical and memorable results over the past decade.

But Matt, you may be thinking, why not just go see an MLS game? There's at least 15 of those a year, plenty of chances to see the stadium that you hold in such high regard. Very true, wise reader, and I just might do that at some point if I get too antsy in the wait for the 2014 Hex. But I don't think it'd be quite the same. It's almost as if Crew Stadium has a split personality; the crowd at your average Crew game just doesn't compare to the tense, electric atmosphere that comes with a USA-Mexico tilt. That's no knock against Crew fans and the folks in the Nordecke, who for the record, do a fantastic job of adding energy to the stadium on a week-to-week basis; I just think it's fair to say that USA-Mexico is on a whole 'nother level.

But, then again, what do I know? All of my opinions are derived solely from television observations and anecdotes. I hate that. I hate that I'm on the outside looking in at that devoted band of brothers (and sisters) who have traveled hundreds or thousands of miles and braved the elements to support the Yanks at the granddaddy of MLS stadia.

In completing this post, I have flown a couple of hundred miles and have had to stop writing for long stretches at a time, so forgive me if the thoughts are a little scattered or if there a few typos. There is one thing I know, though: I will be at Crew Stadium next time around, and every US soccer fan that can should join me in making that pilgrimage at some point or another.